


Retreats

by QuoteMyFoot



Series: Word Prompts for Three Houses [9]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Pre-Relationship, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:47:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22500451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuoteMyFoot/pseuds/QuoteMyFoot
Summary: Linhardt's rest is disturbed by a worried Caspar. There are no certainties in war, but for now, they still have each other.
Relationships: Caspar von Bergliez & Linhardt von Hevring
Series: Word Prompts for Three Houses [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1535843
Comments: 6
Kudos: 32





	Retreats

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the November Daily Prompts on r/FanFiction. **November 9 (Saturday Zounds!): Buzz.**

It was a pleasant summer’s day, exactly the kind that Linhardt liked. Out in the meadow, there was nothing to disturb his thoughts except for the gentle buzzing of several bees, flitting from flower to flower… and his own sleep schedule, of course.

“Hey, Linhardt! Lin! I know you’re here somewhere!”

Linhardt sighed and stayed quiet. A much less pleasant kind of busy bee. _Maybe if I stay quiet, he won’t find me and he’ll just go away…_

A foolish hope. This was _Caspar_ he was talking about here. Was there anyone less likely to give up on unimportant things? Linhardt loved Caspar, but by the Goddess was he exhausting.

“There you are!” Caspar said, sounding excessive cheerful for a man who’d nearly tripped over Linhardt’s legs. “What are you doing all the way out here? Come on, man, there’s training and then the war council later—”

Ugh. The dreaded war councils. Not only did they want Linhardt to take orders, they wanted him to _put together battle plans_ as well. As though any contribution he might make couldn’t have been thought of by the professor first. With Manuela at the meetings to give advice on what the healers could do—something she was much more expert at—his conscience was completely clean about ditching all of that for a pleasant afternoon in the sunshine instead.

At least, his conscience had been totally clean until he saw Caspar’s large, disappointed eyes. He had no right to look like such a kicked puppy dog until and unless Linhardt actually kicked him. Which he was not totally above doing.

“Liiin,” Caspar whined. “This is important.”

“Practising killing, discussing the best ways to kill the enemy…” He made a show of yawning as Caspar winced. “Very important. But I’d rather not.”

Caspar shuffled his feet. “Well, you know… the faster we win, the quicker the war can be over.”

“I know.” Linhardt understood the logic. He was a man of science, after all. He’d considered all of this himself. It was just that he wanted to vomit every time he stepped onto the battlefield.

He couldn’t abandon everyone. But sometimes, he could barely keep himself going, either.

He expected Caspar to argue—braced himself for it, in fact. Instead… Caspar just stood there and _looked_ at him, and suddenly it seemed like he might crumble at any moment, his smile weakening and vanishing before Linhardt’s eyes.

Alarmed, he sat up so quickly that the rush of blood sent a sharp pain through his head. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing!” Caspar said. The hitch in his voice betrayed the lie. Linhardt only had to raise an eyebrow at him before his shoulders slumped and he added, “I mean… it’s just… you slack off training a lot.”

“Of course I do,” Linhardt replied. “I’m _me_.”

“I—I just—” His voice cracked again, and Linhardt’s alarm swelled into true concern when he glanced away with shining wet eyes. “I just… worry about you, you know? You’re not always as fast as everyone else and I know you should be at the rear with the healers but there was that time when a troop came round the back of our lines and—”

He was well on the way to working himself into a panic.

“Slow _down,_ Caspar!” The worry made Linhardt’s voice sharper than he meant and Caspar shut up with a _clack_ of his teeth and a face burning with shame.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I know you don’t need a stupid guy like me to tell you what to do but…”

Linhardt shook his head. “What’s gotten into you? You know that’s not true.”

Caspar didn’t answer. He was unusually subdued – even his broad shoulders were slumped and drawn in to his body, trying to make himself smaller. He was certainly worked up about _something._

Linhardt patted the ground next to him. “Come sit with me a while and relax. You’ll feel better.”

“You’re the one who likes to take naps in the dirt, Linhardt,” he replied, but there was no energy in it – another red flag.

“I’m not asking you to nap, just to sit.”

Caspar still hesitated, but then he sat next to Linhardt, bumping their shoulders together. When Linhardt lay back down to soak in the sunshine, Caspar followed his example, still close enough for him to feel his body heat. _He never did have a concept of personal space,_ Linhardt thought fondly. _He really is like a puppy._

The sunshine soaked into Linhardt’s bones, soothing all his minor aches and pains. The sound of birdsong increased and decreased in pitch as the birds fluttered overheard, darting between the various bushes and trees. Truly idyllic.

He expected Caspar to speak up immediately – he’d never been very good at keeping still for long. Linhardt, after many years of friendship, had grown used to splitting his attention between a book or a train of thought and simultaneously explaining what was going on to Caspar. It had actually been quite beneficial in the long run.

Caspar didn’t say anything for several long minutes. Linhardt had nearly dozed off again when he abruptly said, “You know… I think I understand why you come out here so much. Avoid training and everything.”

“Hm?” Linhardt replied, still sleepy.

“I mean, this place…” In his peripheral vision, he saw Caspar gesture at the sky. _Close enough._ “When you’re here, it’s hard to believe there’s a war going on at all, huh? Just how you like it.”

Linhardt pulled a face. It wasn’t the most incisive deduction, but it was the first time Caspar had seen through him so readily. “I suppose so,” he said, non-committal. “It’s… nice.”

Caspar sat up, staring down at him with a surprisingly solemn expression. “But you know there _is_ a war going on, right?”

He swallowed. Sleep constantly interrupted by nightmares, waking to feel like there was still blood on his hands, over his chest, in his hair; remembering the dying screams and gurgles of the men and women he’d killed, the pleading and prayers of those he’d been unable to save. Lately, the meadow seemed the only place where he _could_ get a truly restful sleep.

“I know,” he said. “All too well.”

There must have been something that showed in his face, because Caspar hesitated, and then awkwardly reached over to pat Linhardt’s shoulder. “I just… worry about you. I’ve seen too many people die and—”

The hitch in his voice again.

Caspar’s knuckles were white from clenching his fists. He turned his face away. “I had a dream where you died. You—you bled out and nobody could do anything. It was all so fast and then you were just d-dead and that was _it_ —”

Before Linhardt knew what he was doing, he found himself sitting up and putting an arm around Caspar’s shoulders as he took a deep, shuddering breath.

“Sorry,” Caspar whispered.

He didn’t brush it aside and say it was a stupid thought – because it wasn’t. Linhardt couldn’t promise it would be okay, because it might not.

“I’m not…” Linhardt licked his lips, which were suddenly dry. “I’m not _avoiding_ training out of… I’m not being carefree. I know it’s dangerous. I only…”

He lost the logic of his thought, the things he’d wanted to say vanishing like smoke under the weight of crushing memories. Oppressive, and, these days, nearly ever-present. He was jolted from the sense of dread by the warmth of Caspar’s hand on top of his.

Linhardt sighed and dropped his head onto Caspar’s shoulder. He smelled of sweat and metal, but he usually did. It was strangely comforting. _Some things, I hope, will never change._

“I can’t _be_ in the war all the time, Caspar,” he said. “I’m not like you. I can’t—it doesn’t matter if it’s just or the best choice, or even self-defence… I can’t get the smell of blood and bile out of my nose. I _can’t_ bear it. If I don’t clear my head, I’ll go mad.” Caspar’s hand squeezed his, and Linhardt closed his eyes. The imagined movement behind his eyelids always looked like someone swinging a sword. “Sometimes, I’m afraid I already have.”

Caspar sighed. “Yeah. I know. But… I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“So you came all the way out here and practically stepped on me because you were _worried._ ” He tried to make his tone light and teasing, but it just came out as tired. Weighty topics were always so exhausting, like they doubled the effects of gravity.

“I guess so,” Caspar said. “I mean, I wanted to ask if you’d come train with me, but…”

_That_ sounded very much like Caspar. Linhardt could just imagine it now. Express your concern for your best friend by attempting to beat the snot out of him, so he’d do better at avoiding it next time. Purely out of love, of course – the sad thing being that it really was an expression of Caspar’s love. How did such an exhausting person _exist?_

Linhardt wouldn’t trade him for anyone, but still, he wished to register a complaint.

“Have you ever heard a bee hum?” he asked.

“Uh, what?” Caspar replied.

“There’s a hive not far from here. They come by sometimes.” Linhardt lay in the grass again, letting the scent of wildflowers welcome him back. He closed his eyes and breathed in deep. “You should stay and listen.”

“Linhardt…”

“And then,” he continued, “we can go and train together.”

He sensed, rather than saw, Caspar’s surprised jerk. “Really?”

“Mmhm.”

Caspar didn’t reply, but Linhardt heard the sound of leaves rustling and felt Caspar’s weight settle next to him. “I thought bees buzzed, though?”

“When they’re angry,” Linhardt said. “But when they’re just going to and fro… it’s gentle.”

“Bees are kinda fuzzy and cute, too,” Caspar added, probably exhausting his knowledge of bees. “I guess taking the honey is off the table?”

“Precisely. I don’t want to be stung.”

“Aw.”

For a minute, all was quiet. Sensing Caspar next to him lulled Linhardt into a warm feeling of safety.

“Wait, you’re still not going to the war council, right?”

“Goodness, no,” he answered around a yawn.

“Oh. Good. Gives me an excuse not to go either. I’m happy just following orders and stuff. All that strategy goes over my head…”

Smiling, Linhardt felt himself begin to drift away into sleep. _Yes… this is how it should be. The two of us together, me falling asleep to Caspar’s rambling…_

Perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! I welcome comments of all kinds and I'd love to hear your thoughts! <3


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